


Lazy Morning at home

by Khanofallorcs



Series: Marinette's Birthday fluff [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Félix/ Bridgette, Mentions of Alya and Nino - Freeform, Mentions of Bridgette(PV), Mentions of Félix Graham de Vanilly, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khanofallorcs/pseuds/Khanofallorcs
Summary: Determined to help Marinette relax after weeks of hard work, Adrien plans to surprise his girlfriend with breakfast in bed, on the morning of her 23rd birthday.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Marinette's Birthday fluff [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895944
Comments: 30
Kudos: 71
Collections: August 2020 - Exchange





	Lazy Morning at home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PurpleFlower04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlower04/gifts).



> This story goes out to Princess Flower on the _Miraculous Fanworks_ Discord server. She asked for fluff, and I hope that what I've written here is close to what you had in mind. Initially, I was going to include the events happening in the evening in the fic, but for thematic reasons, mostly I have
> 
> I'd love to give special thanks to [JuliaFC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaFC) for beta reading this fic, helping me smooth out the parts that didn't quite work as well as I had originally thought, and to [MarinetteAgresteBrand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarinetteAgresteBrand) for her delicious baking expertise.

It takes Adrien a while to wake up, since every time he stirs, the warmth from Marinette’s arms lulls him back to sleep. It is unfortunate that he has had to set a vibrating alarm on his watch this Saturday, but he really can’t afford to sleep in. He has a lot to do today.

Blearily, he opens his eyes and manages to pat the alarm back to sleep. He takes the chance to look at her. Her blue-black hair is all a mess (she was so tired last night she didn’t even put it up into pigtails when she went to bed, he finds), her shirt’s riding up from tossing and turning in bed, and she’s snoring ever so lightly. It’s all he can do to kiss the top of her head (she stirred a bit when he did that; thank goodness, he does _not_ want to wake Marinette up early on one of her days off) and get on with the day’s most difficult task: untangling himself from the knot that their limbs get into every time they sleep together.

Over the time they’ve been together, he’s learned that she’s a very restless sleeper; no matter the size of the bed she will naturally splay out to take up all of it, blankets and all. Apparently, that’s why her parents got her a bed with railing ever since she was a child (oh how grumpy she pretended to be when Tom and Sabine told him that!), and Alya, for all that she loves Marinette, refuses to spend the night in the same bed as her (their many sleepovers together have taught her that whatever Marinette promises, Alya will still wake-up on the floor each time, so she might as well make herself comfortable there beforehand). Miraculously (ha!) or not, that lines up well with his tendency to sleep curled in on himself and not move all night. Somehow, together they’ve found a happy medium, where she can find a nice comfortable position to sleep in, and he sleeps so much better knowing that he’s wrapped in her arms.

Right now, he’s thankful that she’s such a heavy sleeper. Ever so slowly, he untangles his hand from hers (trying real hard to ignore the pitiful whimper she involuntarily let out) and the arm that was wrapped around her, taking care to rotate her back into a comfortable position. She starts tossing and turning almost immediately, but seems to calm down when he pushes the blanket and his pillow towards her, letting her cling to them. She had once confessed that she found his scent relaxing and familiar, and apparently this is enough to pacify her back into sleep for now.

After a few steps away from the bed, he can finally breathe a sigh of relief, and start moving towards the kitchen. On one of the highest shelves of a cabinet, he looks to see Plagg and Tikki asleep in their little nest, with Plagg’s tail wrapped around her, as usual. Like a cat, Plagg was drawn to places where he could find a good vantage (he’d insist that it was to survey his domain, but Tikki had let them know that really, it was so he could always keep an eye on his charges while not being obvious in his affection). Adrien still doesn’t know how many hours the little gods are meant to sleep, but he figures it best not to disturb them too much, save for rubbing Plagg between the ears, and keeping in the laughter from the purr than rumbles out of the kwami. (He’s learned that Plagg, even asleep, _will_ bite him if he tries to touch Tikki while the kwami’s holding onto her).

Finally breaking out of his reverie, Adrien can now at last shake off the last dregs of sleepiness and get his head in the game: the Princess deserves her breakfast in bed, especially today, and he should be getting started on the baking for his special surprise for her. But after checking the fridge and the baking supplies his fears are confirmed: it’s just not enough without a trip to the supermarket.

Fine, he’s just going to have to make it quick. He sneaks back into the room (a formality, mostly, he knows she’d be able to sleep through him singing along to Jagged Stone) to grab his wallet and phone (just in case she wakes up without him) and leaves the apartment.

This early in the morning (about 7 AM, as his phone let him know) there’s scarcely anyone out. It’s normally not easy to find a shop open at this time, either, but this is why he spent the time to do his research last night. He’s about to go into the store when he spots a spot of red on a flower pot. No, it’s not the red bloom he noticed, but the barely visible ladybug sunning on its petals. He snaps a photo of it, and sends it to Marinette (the caption is “it u”).

His shopping list is actually slightly longer than he realised, since Plagg would notice he went out and start grumbling that he hadn’t stopped to get him yet more wheels of the vile cheese they had quarantined to the airtight compartment of the fridge (no, Plagg, you are not allowed to let it air!).

The ingredients take little time to find, and it is only slightly harder to find a florist open right now. He’s found, by trial and error, what the flowers she likes are, but it’s only recently he’s really narrowed the ones she _loves_ . The funny part is that seemingly it was a surprise to her too. He shouldn’t be surprised that Ladybug would have somewhat unusual tastes, but the photo of Marinette trying to discreetly chew through the hibiscus petals, while the stem was sticking out of her mouth is one he will forever treasure. She got on his case that it would really undermine her secret identity (and dignity) but really, would a more obvious and obnoxious reminder be _that_ bad?

Finally grabbing everything he needs he starts making his way back to their shared apartment. When he gets there he notices the elevator seemingly stuck on the top floor level; no matter, he needed to get his exercise in today anyhow, since he won’t have time to go to the gym. After all, six flights of stairs, even laden with stuff as he is, are hardly a challenge for one of Paris’ top heroes. Still, it’s enough to work up a sweat enough that he decides it’s time for a shower when he finally reaches their door.

He puts the perishables in the fridge, and goes ahead and freshens himself up. He does at one point check up on Marinette, who has managed to get herself wrapped up in all the blankets almost as if they are her cocoon. Still dripping a little, he enters the kitchen at about 8:30, ready to put into practice all that Marinette and her parents have taught him about baking.

He could go for something fancy, like macarons (although good luck getting those past Tikki; he’s learned that while she might be much better mannered than Plagg, she is no less voracious), but he figures he should play it safe; he really doesn’t want to ruin today by having her be woken up by the fire department. So, crêpes it is.

He gathers up the eggs, milk, butter, flour and sugar, and gets to whisking flour, salt and sugar, then adding the eggs, and more slowly the milk, and he loses himself in the whirl of activity and sweet smells.

* * *

  
  


The first thing that Marinette notices is the lack of Adrien. The absence of his heat and weight against her is always enough to shock her into the barest semblance of wakefulness (about the only thing that is able to overpower a lifetime of going to sleep late and not being a morning person are the nightmares; but those have been rarer and easier to dispel when she can reassure herself that he’s safe, in bed with her). She’s only able to start groaning until she realizes she can smell something: it’s the welcome scent of coffee and freshly baked pastry, and in the time it takes her to sleepily turn in the direction of that heavenly scent she can see through half-closed eyes Adrien opening the door with his shoulder and is coming in carrying an absolutely delightful-looking tray.

“I was hoping to surprise you,” he laughs and tells her

“You always do, Kitty. Even if you do things like this for me all the time. How long did you spend on it?”

“Not too long,” Adrien assures her.

“Mhm, yeah. Is that why the bed feels empty? And why your side of the bed feels so cooold,” she drags that last syllable out as she dramatically puts the back of her palm against her forehead.

“Well someone had to get the birthday girl something nice.”

“… that’s today? I completely forgot,” she grumbles

“As I knew you would, lovebug. You always work yourself so hard.”

“Adrien, you know-”

“-That setting up your own line is difficult, and everyone’s relying on you, and you can’t stand the thought of letting them down,” Adrien recites, having heard her little speech several times by now. “I know that; all I’m saying is that it takes a toll on you, and maybe today you can take the time to look after yourself. Or better yet,” he says, setting the tray down on her nightstand, “to let me look after you,” and he finishes that thought by leaning down to press a kiss on her cheek.

For a moment, she says nothing. Then, she reaches out to wrap her arms around his shoulders and brings them both tumbling and laughing down on the bed.

“That’d be nice,” she mumbles against the crook of his neck, “but maybe we can sleep just a little bit more, first?”

“I don’t know, Princess, I have been pretty active this morning but-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before she starts raking her nails across his scalp, making sure to scratch the place behind where his ears would be, if he had his mask on. There’s an attempted whine, but it’s covered up by his purring and he finds himself nuzzling into her, eyes closed in pleasure.

She knows him too well.

  
  


* * *

Even she can only sleep so many hours, even with his deep, even breathing serving as her lullaby. When she does finally stir enough to open her eyes, she finds him facing her, his own emerald greens intently focused on her face.

“… Is everything alright, Kitty? Do I have something on my face?”

“Oh, just the usual,” he chuckles and goes in for a quick peck on her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Your freckles.”

For several long beats she can do no more than slowly blink at him, wondering if she’s awake enough for this conversation. Sensing her confusion, he pipes up:

“Now that summer’s here, there’s a few more of them there. Also, it’s been a while since the last time I was close enough to count them”. That last statement is so quiet she only barely hears it, but when she does, she can’t help laughing. Thankfully, only a second later he joins her.

“I know it’s been a while, Chaton. But all you have to do is ask, you know?”

“But, ah,” he says, with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, trailing his hand slowly from her cheeks and down her shoulder, settling on a constellation of freckles there,”if I really take my time, we’ll be late for dinner at your parent’s house.”

That, apparently, is enough to wake her up.

“Adrien, tell me you didn’t accept an invitation from them without telling me,” she says, ice dripping from her voice.

“I learned my lesson from last time! No, as you might recaaaaaall,” he drawls, “we were talking to Tom and Sabine on the phone last weekend. They said it had been a while, since we went to visit them-”

“It had only been three weeks, Adrie-”

“- Too long! _Anyway_ , I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted,” and he pauses a moment knowing she’s going to be sticking her tongue out at him right around now, “they asked us to come on over the next time there’s something to celebrate! You were trying so hard to just get out of the call before they shared more _juicy_ anecdotes of your babybug days, that you agreed to it!“

She racks her brain for a bit, because that _does_ sound vaguely familiar, until the memory comes to her. They were getting ready to spill the beans on what little parts of her early (embarrassing) attempts to get Adrien to like her that Alya and Nino, the traitors, hadn’t already confessed to.

Slowly, the rest of the memories of that night trickle in: she had only half been paying attention to what they were saying, focused as she was with getting the phone out of Adrien’s grip, held high above his head. As usual, the heads he had on her made reaching up to him a little awkward, so she was forced to improvise: she reached up to grab him by the collar (ignoring the lack of bell) and dragged him down so that their eyes were level. She gave him the most smouldering look she could manage, and clearly it worked, since he stammered out a ‘talk to you soon’ before distractedly shutting down the call, over the obvious guffaws of her parents. Ah yes, that had been one _lovely_ afternoon…

“Yeah, seems like your memory’s still working, Bugaboo,” he pipes up, delighting in the obvious blush coming to her cheeks.

“You were in cahoots with them!” She pouts at him.

“If it helps, they hadn’t told me they were going to do it in advance. I just caught on and figured it’d be a nice surprise. After all, what better way to celebrate your 5,023rd birthday?” She swats him once across the chest, “Sorry, the 5,022nd ,rather,” and this time she’s giggling along with him.

“I swear, sometimes it feels like you get along with them better than I do.”

“It’s easy when they’re the parents of the sweetest daughter in the world.”

“You know too much sweetness isn’t good for you, Adrien.”

“Oh, I know, Princess. It still wouldn’t stop me. Anyway, they expect us later tonight, and yes, they _did_ send you a reminder earlier this week. Wednesday, I think.”

 _Right._ That had been the day Marinette only managed 3 hours of sleep because her assistant had gotten sick, which had left a mountain of time-sensitive paperwork to sort through. Even with Adrien’s help, once he got out of his own meetings, that had gone late into the night. She winces, and in sympathy he takes her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“I totally missed that,” she confesses.

“You were focused on the task at hand,” Adrien reassures her.

“But you noticed.”

“I only noticed that you had dozens of unread messages by the time I went to join you; they sent me a message yesterday since you never got back to them.”

And she’d been so stupidly busy that she’d only gotten home past midnight, barely mustered up the energy to take off her heels and dress, and collapsed on her side of the bed.

“I’m-”

“ _Marinette_ ,” he stops to really look into her eyes, “don’t apologize for this. You’re working so, so hard to make your dreams a reality. All of us understand that you’re under a lot of stress all the time. The last thing we want is to be another source of it. Look, if you think you’re not up to going to your parents tonight, that’s fine, we’ll just call them and tell them.” He pauses to look at his watch for a moment, “We still have a good few hours until we’re due to show up”.

“Actually,” she says, “I’ve been missing them too. And besides, maybe it’s time for me to get up and start responding to all the birthday wishes I’ve received by now.” When she turns to look for her phone, she spots the tray from earlier still on her nightstand. “Adrien! You made all that for me! Even crêpes! And you let me let them get cold because I wanted to sleep in more… I’m sorry for all that hard work, kitty!”

“No one’s going to blame you for wanting to sleep in on your birthday. Some part of it might still be salvageable, if I heat it.”

“Can I please ask you to do that while I make myself more presentable?”

He smiles before reaching forward to kiss her forehead and get out of bed.

“I’m not sure if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, I’d like to do that together?” Marinette pipes up before he’s fully out of the room. She manages to hear him grunting in assent, seemingly not wanting to speak loud enough to risk waking the kwamis.

When she finally does get to her phone, his early message is the first to show up, and she checks it with a fond eyeroll, and gives it one heart emoji in reply. Next up there’s a slew of messages from her friends and colleagues: Alya and Nino sent a short clip of them wishing happy birthday from their room (they both know she’s not likely to wake up until late in the day), Luka sends a warmer message with a few more musical references than she is familiar with (Juleka also says hi, he mentions) and even Kagami sends her regards, if somewhat too formally. It takes her a while to answer all of them, which leaves her with only her family’s well-wishes to get through.

There’s one from Nonna Gina, seemingly from wherever she stopped on her motorcycle. She made sure to always send her a birthday note, although neither she nor Marinette ever brought up how it would be hard to forget what had happened on that date. Also present is a message from her curmudgeonly grandpa Roland; it’s curt and to the point (although appropriately traditional). There’s even one from great-uncle Wang and the rest of her extended family in Shanghai. That one is particularly nice, with a traditional greeting in Chinese, along with the translation into French. There’s even one from ‘Uncle’ Jagged and Penny; it’s got a few verses, all of them telling her to stay rock’n’roll.

When she finally reaches the message from her parents, she can’t help the smirk forming: they knew that she’d spend most of the day conked out in bed with Adrien, and only asked her to confirm that they’d be able to make it to dinner at 8PM. The clock tells her she still has time, and with a few drawn-out stretches she finally gets out of bed and into the bathroom to shower.

Back when she still lived with Tom and Sabine, they teased her about how long it took her to shower; it was the one time she allowed herself to really relax. Adrien, though, has always taken long showers (it’s the model in him, _apparently_ , and she can’t stop snickering), so he never seems surprised when she does, too. So, almost half an hour later, she steps out, fully refreshed, ready to make the most of (what’s left of) her birthday. Starting with the coffee that her wonderful boyfriend has prepared for her, as the aroma wafting in from the kitchen lets her know.

When she arrives in the kitchen, she notices Adrien, seated at the table, trying very hard not to laugh as their two kwamis, now awake, are bickering and chasing each other around the room. Best as she can tell, Plagg has swiped the last cheesecake that Adrien had bought for the two of them earlier, with Tikki in hot pursuit. She knows they’ll end up sharing it, but she still finds it amazing that millenia old mini-deities still get up to this kind of antics.

As she passes Adrien on her way to her seat, she makes sure to lightly pinch his side and then dart back before he can swat her for it. For good measure she comes up to wrap her arms around him, and lay her head against his.

“Thanks, Kitty.”

“You’re welcome, my Lady.”

With that, Marinette presses one last kiss to the top of his head and moves over to her seat. Now she can finally take it all in: there’s crêpes, along with all the jams they keep (her personal favorite is lemon, but Adrien, as always, has a sweet tooth). To her right, her coffee, black with just the barest hint of sugar and milk awaits her. Lastly, she notices the flowers he’s gotten her: there’s one rose, as she’s come to expect, right in front of the tray, but there’s also a hibiscus flower sitting by itself on a plate. She’d chalk it up to him trying to pull her leg, but she’s complained to him about craving one for a while now, and apparently he even went the extra mile, there’s still aphids on this one!

She’s trying to keep a mask of politeness on, but it’s hard when everything is tempting her. Thankfully, he doesn’t make her wait long. With a smirk, he tells her to dig in and there’s a flurry of movement as they both reach out to get jam, the spreader and all the other things they need. It’s a mark of their years together that they don’t need any words and only a minimum of gestures to pass around the whipped cream and the right jam.

From the first bite Marinette can tell that Adrien’s technique has rather improved: his first attempts had been rather burnt and uneven. But this one’s just the right kind of fluffy. It’s a smidge too sweet for her tastes, but that works out well when paired with the lemon jam. And together with the whipped cream, it’s downright delicious. She smiles at him in gratitude before taking a sip of her coffee; this one too had taken him a while to perfect, but as the early riser out of the two of them, he’s had a lot of practice.

One by one, the pile of crêpes steadily dwindles. At this point, there’s only the hibiscus left. And it’s been staring her down all this time, taunting with its bright petals, the promise of its tangy taste, and the sweet crunch of the aphids on it. She takes the flower by the stem, admiring it, then sneaking a look to see his knowing smile. Adrien _knows_ that ladybug tendencies make her self-conscious (his own cat tendencies did too, but soon enough they became too much for him to be able to hide; he came to embrace them as a sign of his bond with Plagg). Marinette knows that if she asks, he’ll give her a moment of privacy.

But today she figures she’ll indulge him and let him watch. Gingerly she plucks one of the petals, brings it close to her nose to take in its aroma, then, without breaking eye contact, picks up one of the aphids, puts her in her mouth, and crunches on it loudly. That’s enough to make him completely collapse into laughter, and she has to agree, she’d find it funny if she were the one seeing it too. The sweet taste goes well with the tangy one from the hibiscus flower itself. She takes her time, enjoying every single bite of the flower and the aphids, before leaning against the back of the chair, thoroughly satisfied.

When they’re finally done with their brunch, they stop to take a look at the time. They’ve still got maybe some five hours until they need to be out the door. Which allows them some time to take it slow. The first manner of business would normally be to figure out who does the dishes; which is to say, whoever loses at _Ultimate Mecha Strike IV_. But Adrien wouldn’t let her do the dishes on her birthday, of all days.

When he brings this up, she retorts that he’s only saying that because he’d lose anyway, and exactly as she expects, his eyes narrow and he challenges her to back up those words, missy! They both know that out of the hundreds of rounds they’ve played against each other, he’s won maybe a dozen (she’ll gleefully claim he’s cheated much more than that). Still, every time they play there’s that sliver of chance that maybe this time he’ll get lucky, and if not he can always look on fondly as she does her victory dance in place, and he’ll be overcome by how cute she is, he’ll swoop her up, pepper her face with kisses.

This time, as usual, she absolutely trounces him; the new combo he had tried had been clever (she hadn’t known he knew how to do it), but the one slip he made in the execution let her turn around and empty all of his bar in one single chain of attacks. He mock-glares at her, telling her he’ll ‘get you next time, and your Miraculous, and your passionfruit macarons too!’, fist clenched in front of his face for dramatic effect. After she finishes her eyeroll he sticks his tongue out at her before winking and grabbing the dishes.

“So, Bugaboo,“ he starts, while reaching for the sponge and turning on the warm water, though not loud enough that he won’t hear her.

“Yeah, Kitty?”

“Get a lot of birthday messages already?”

“A decent amount. I think my relatives in China were the first, technically, what with timezones and all. Left a lovely message.“

“In French, then?”

“The original is in Chinese, but they also added the French translation.”

“That was nice of them,” he says, as he picks up one of the plates and runs it under the water, before turning it around to wash it with the sponge. “The last time you saw them was that time we were in Shanghai, right?”

“My cousin Bridgette visited a few times. You remember the time when she met _your_ cousin?”

“You bet I do! He faced down akumas and Ladybug without being afraid, but somehow she was the person he went out of his way to avoid?” Adrien couldn’t stop his guffawing.

“Do we know what she did to get that to happen?” she asked as she made herself comfortable on their couch, slouching across it with the ankle over the knee of the other leg, and her hands a makeshift pillow for her head. Her head peeks out just enough to let her watch him as he finishes rinsing a mug.

“Félix insists that she had ‘nefarious intentions’. Reading between the lines, I think he was not used to her more… _exuberant_ personality and attempts to get to know him better.“

“At least _he_ caught on that she was interested,” she snickers.

“Hey now! In my case, it was just a matter of time!”

“A lot of time,“ she deadpans.

“But we got there, eventually.”

“We did,” she agrees.

“Anyway,“ Adrien begins. “You know how I asked Sabine a while back when Bridgette’s birthday was?“

“Wasn’t that some months ago? Wait… don’t tell me!”

“Yup! He hemmed and hawed over what the right greeting would be, and what he could get her, and how she’d be even more insufferable now. Not sure Aunt Amelie knows… though she well might.“

“Guess the type runs in the family, huh?”

“Quite likely,” he concedes. “But so far as I know, he hasn’t quite gotten to writing poetry to her just yet. And besides, can you blame us?”

“Nope,” she says, a smirk on her lips.

There’s a stretch of near silence, where the only sound is that of the running water and Adrien softly humming a tune as he cleans the remainder of the dishes. Marinette takes this time to just stretch contentedly, before lying on her back and closing her eyes, taking in the peace that she's been missing for weeks now.

“Oh yeah, before I forget,” Adrien begins, causing her to turn towards him, “Chloé asked me to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Still can’t say that to me herself, huh?”

He carefully says nothing to that.

“Is she doing this just for you, or is she still trying to pretend she doesn’t know me?” Marinette asks him, bluebell eyes piercing and curious.

“Yes.”

With a scoff, she walks up to playfully swat him. When she gets close Adrien holds out his palm to splash her with some of the water. In response Marinette reaches out, figuring she’ll either grab his hand, or at least get enough water to splash him right back. She manages the latter, hitting him straight in the face and hair, leaving it a dripping mess.

He yowls and backs into a corner (apparently he has a cat’s reaction to suddenly getting wet). She takes one step towards him (shutting off the water) making sure to leave no more room on one side than another for him to make a break for it. He hisses in what is meant to be at least somewhat menacing manner, but the hair plastered down his forehead is really not helping his case. On her next step, he turns it up, giving her a look at his fangs, sharper than any human's should be and the rest of his hair stands on end. She has no doubt that if he had his tail right now it’d be whipping around, threatening her. She looks him dead in the eyes, and blinks slowly. The fight seems to drain from Adrien’s face and almost automatically he starts slowly blinking at her right back. Then she says ‘pspspspsps’.

Immediately he closes the distance between them to start nuzzling into her, laughing softly as he does so. Then he takes half a step back, while she looks on in confusion, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it before he rushes forward to scoop her up in his arms, and then starts twirling them around the kitchen, to the sound of both of them laughing happily and uncontrolled. After maybe a half-dozen turns, he stops, finds a clean countertop and places her there. Now their eyes are level.

She had placed her arms around his shoulder when he grabbed her, and she’s still keeping them there. Only this time she’s pulling him in closer, gazing deep into his soft green eyes, as she pulls him into a long, loving kiss.

* * *

  
  
  


Adrien and Marinette break apart, desperately needing to take a breath. She’s straddling him, with her hands cupping his face, and his caressing her back. He can’t recall anything in the last while, other than, that _Marinette_ happened.

 _Not for the first time_ , he thinks.

“I love you, Marinette,” he manages, after gasping for breath one last time.

“I love you too, Adrien,” she returns, laying her forehead down against his.

For a while, neither of them says anything; they don’t have to. Some time later she turns to kiss his cheek and starts to get up.

“How much time do we have until we have to leave?” Marinette asks him.

He searches for his phone in his pockets, but he must have lost it earlier in his… distractedness. Thankfully, his watch is still at this wrist.

“About two hours,” he lets her know. She winces a little in response, then lets out a groan.

“Well, there goes all that time we had. We’ll both need to freshen up again.”

“What a _cat_ astrophe! Why, my Lady, it seems there’s only one thing to do!“ If she ever had any doubts what he was going for, his exaggerated eyebrow wiggling makes it very clear.

“You know we always get distracted and it never works out for us when we try it.”

“Has that ever stopped us before?” he asks with a smirk.

In truth, it _hasn’t_. But she’s not about to give him the satisfaction of admitting he’s right, on her birthday of all days. So she fixes him with the most stern face she can muster (it wouldn’t be so easy if he wasn’t radiating smugness in waves). Finally, she pokes him on the nose, making him go cross-eyed for a second, before putting on a smirk of her own.

“Tell you what, Kitty… I am going to go take a shower. It’s up to you if you can… persuade me to let you join.” She stops to take in the blush, as she gets out of the bed and into the bathroom. She moves in further, into the shower stall. She makes as if to draw the curtains, before stopping to take in his gaping mouth and the desire in his eyes, and throwing him a wink. “But if we’re late because of you, I’m taking you to the vet!“

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was a joy to write, but it wouldn't have been possible without the support of the lovely folks from the _Miraculous Fanworks_ Discord; they organized this whole exchange, and the writing sprints we did together really kept me focused on the task. If you feel like you'd like to take part in exchanges like these, gush about Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, or just to find a welcoming community which can help with anything from beta reading to giving baking advice, feel free to join us [here](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [It’s a Beautiful New Day!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340916) by [SteelBlaidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelBlaidd/pseuds/SteelBlaidd)




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